Page 5 of The Sinner’s Desire (The Sinner’s Touch #1)

Boston That Same Night

“No.”

“She’s my sister.”

“She’s a child.”

“For fuck’s sake, Amos, could you be a little less hard-headed and just listen to me? Which part of ‘Lilly has nowhere else to go’ didn’t you understand?”

“Of course she has somewhere to go. She can stay with your mother. Be reasonable. We’re men. Look around. Our place doesn’t exactly scream ‘ready for a nun.’”

I know she’s not technically a nun—but it’s pretty damn close. The girl’s been locked away since she was twelve in one of the most prestigious all-girls boarding schools on the planet, and as far as I know, she’s had very little contact with the outside world.

“She’s not a nun. She went to a Catholic boarding school. Not the same thing.”

I feel like a complete bastard for saying no to him, but honestly, I can only assume he hit his head or something equally stupid.

That’s the only explanation for wanting to bring that blonde angel into our house.

No, little Lilly isn’t a nun. She’s the opposite.

A temptation. My secret craving.

I try to scrub her image from my mind—my best friend’s little sister—but I can’t. The memory of that Christmas night two years ago hits me hard.

My first impression when I was introduced to her was that she looked like a porcelain doll.

Reserved. Flat. Empty of personality.

That impression vanished the second she lifted her eyes and looked at me.

There was a restless spark in those icy-blue eyes, one that didn’t match her demure outfit: a pale dress, a pink cardigan, and pearl earrings as her only jewelry.

Her hair, nearly white blonde, was pinned into a low bun, and I had to physically restrain myself from pulling out those pins just to feel it in my hands.

No, I didn’t just want to touch it. I wanted to wrap it around my fist and pull her to me.

Don’t think shit like that about her—not even as a memory, my conscience warns.

But the truth is, I’ve never felt such a powerful pull to a woman—and it only made my mood worse that night, which was already going to hell.

And she didn’t help. She seemed . . . spellbound. Every time I looked her way, she was staring right back. And even though I didn’t want to admit it, the intensity and fire in her eyes had me locked in from the moment I walked into their mom's house.

Even if that sweet little angel wasn’t my best friend’s baby sister, she’d still be off-limits for me.

There couldn’t be two more different people. Darkness and light. That was us.

Even in the way we dressed that night—me, as usual, in black, a color that suits my mood.

Maybe the one thing we had in common was how little we interacted with people.

She didn’t say much all night—just “please” and “thank you.”

In my world, that’s not a bad thing. I can’t stand people who won’t shut up even when they have nothing to say.

Still, Lilly’s detachment didn’t seem like teenage attitude. She didn’t look comfortable, not even around her mother. And honestly, who could blame her? Nora’s unbearable.

She may be Ethan’s mother, but I still can’t stand her.

She’s shallow. A snob obsessed with appearances and the illusion of a perfect family.

Never gave a damn about her kids—they were raised by nannies, and when they needed more than just a bottle and a bedtime story, she dumped them in elite schools to make sure they got an education fit for royalty.

But that’s not even the main reason I despise her.

That same Christmas night, when Lilly caught us in the library, Nora had just invited me down to the wine cellar.

I’m a grown man. I knew what she wanted. And I told her, very clearly, that I wasn’t interested.

First, she went speechless. Then she batted those fake lashes like she couldn’t believe I was turning her down.

I’m not looking for a relationship, not even a casual one. I pick my partners carefully—and I’d never go near a married woman.

The fact that she’s Ethan’s mother only makes it worse. She knows how close we are.

I don’t care about most people. Ethan is the only exception. It would take a hell of a lot more than a bored socialite to make me risk that friendship.

Like Lilly, maybe? a voice in my head mocks.

“Amos, it’s not like I have a choice. I’m going on a trip—you know I can’t leave her alone,” Ethan says, pulling me back into the conversation.

“Ethan, you’ve lost your mind. We don’t even cook. There’s not a single edible thing in this house.” That’s the least of my worries. I could easily have the maid take care of her meals. What I don’t want is that irresistible little creature wandering around the place.

“So what? There are a million apps for grocery delivery. And don’t forget—Lilly may have spent most of her life in boarding schools, but she’s been living in Paris for two years.

I’m sure she can manage basic life stuff.

If she needs to go shopping, she’ll figure it out—or she can make a list and Ula”—he’s talking about our housekeeper—”can take care of it. ”

“I’m not questioning your sister’s intelligence. I just don’t have the time or the patience to babysit some teenage girl.”

“She’s not a teenager anymore. She’s twenty. She’s got plans, Amos. She wants to finish fashion school and find her own place. But I won’t let her go into adulthood alone after spending most of her life locked away. I’m not dumping my only sister in this city without a safety net.”

And he’s right.

I can’t picture that beautiful, na?ve girl living on her own in Boston. She’d be an easy target—and I know exactly what happens to vulnerable girls.

The thought leaves a bitter taste in my mouth. Whether I like it or not, I feel protective of her.

Because she’s Ethan’s sister. That’s all.

“Fine.”

“Fine, what? You’ll keep an eye on her while I’m gone?”

“When do her classes start?”

“She said in about two weeks.”

“All right. If you want me to do this, I need a full report: where she’s enrolled, her schedule—everything.”

“Fuck, you’re worse than I am.”

“You knew that and still asked me for help. If I’m going to be her guardian for a month, it’s going to be on my terms. Don’t expect me to be some goddamn babysitter. I’ll be a guardian. And maybe by the end of the month, your sister will be begging to go back to Paris.”

He laughs—even though he knows I’m not joking.

I don’t do anything halfway. I’m a control freak to the core.

“You don’t need to worry. My Pumpkin is sweet and obedient. Besides, she doesn’t know anyone here.”

Pumpkin. That nickname almost makes me laugh.

I’d bet every dollar I have that she hates being called that in public.

What does angry little Lilly look like?

My gut tells me those restless eyes come with a fiery streak.

Maybe she’s shy, judging by how she acted at that party. But I have a feeling that deep down, she’s just waiting for the chance to live.

Yeah . . . I wasn’t the only one watching her. I watched her, too. Judge me if you want.

I was bored out of my mind—and the only reason I stayed was to support Ethan, who hates dealing with his mother. The only people who can get him to show up to those events, besides his sister, is his grandmother.

That’s it. I stayed because I promised I would, I lie to myself.

“I need to know her flight info,” I say.

“Lilly said I could just send one of our staff to pick her up from the airport.”

“No way, Ethan. If she’s staying under my rules, I’m the one picking her up when she lands.”